Hollow
by winghearted
Summary: "I hate you!" she spits venomously. "I've always hated you!" Lies, conspiracy, and the Sorceress. AU fic featuring all main characters of FF8, rating to be changed to M at a later date.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello! This story takes place in the FF8 universe, same characters and all, but AU in terms that it doesn't follow the game's storyline. Some elements of that may be used here. Canon pairings, sorry if you don't like Squall/Rinoa but this fic will be centered on them. There will be plenty of the other characters with their own storylines as well. Just a quick disclaimer to say that the characters, locations, etc etc do not belong to me but to Square-Enix. Thanks in advance for checking this fic out. Enjoy.

"I thought... I'd never see you again."

Her voice is husky, slightly hoarse. Her words are spoken so softly that they fade into the smoky atmosphere.

He can hardly see her; plumes of smoke, low-key lighting, and the haze of alcohol cloud his vision. Perhaps the hotel bar wasn't the most proper place to meet her, but the truth was transport to a more suitable venue would have taken far too long. He had to see her right that moment. He had waited years, and he could not wait anymore.

He swirls his whiskey in the glass, seemingly fascinated with the rich golden hue it seemed to emit in the light...or perhaps he's afraid to look at her?

"To be honest, I never thought I'd see you again either." He pauses. "...And it terrified me."

He risks a glance at her now. Although hidden in shadow, he can still see her angular features – the prominent cheekbones, the sharp jaw. Now her cheeks flush, staining the alabaster skin with wine.

"Look, I don't have long. My daughter is waiting for me. If we're seen, then-"

"I know," he cuts her off. "I'm sorry. I know we don't have a lot of time. Seeing you is enough. I'm glad that you're happy." It wasn't like him not to talk, but the agony of the last few weeks seemed to have changed him.

She wants to explain, then. But she can't, and she's well aware that both of them have already moved on.

"I really can't be seen with you," she says, standing. She pushes a brown envelope towards him. "This is all the information you need. I...please, be careful." She pauses, maybe waiting for him to say something. He doesn't. Instead he finally drinks his whiskey, downing it in one go. "Goodbye, Laguna."

She turns away, but suddenly he grabs her and he's kissing her like it's their first and their last kiss. It's only when it's over that she realizes that it _is_ the first, and it is most definitely the last. A love that died before it was given the chance to bloom. She chokes back her tears. "_Goodbye_."

He watches her go, his face etched with regret and agony, their passionate and tense reunion unnoticed by the other patrons.

Or so he thought.

_-13 Years Later-_

"Get back here, young lady. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you!"

Rinoa Heartilly seethed with irritation and anger as she wheeled to face her father.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into! I know you think that you understand, but the situation is much more complicated th-"

"Oh, so now you're calling me an idiot?" She shouts back, bristling with fury. "I understand perfectly well what's going on. I also understand that you're too much of a coward to actually _do_ anything about it!"

He takes a few steps closer to her now. It's a verbal boxing match – father versus daughter, military commander versus young revolutionary. She looks so much like her mother, but there's ferocity in her dark eyes that he cannot recognize; Julia's were always peaceful, maybe a little sad. Then again, his daughter probably has more to be angry about. He tries again. "I'm doing my best to diffuse the situation, Rinoa," he growls, his voice rough and sharp; a serrated blade. "I would hope that even _you_ would realize I can't simply barge in there and-"

She laughs, and the disdainful sound echoes off the high ceiling above them. Paired with the dark hallway and the sombre, eerie paintings that line the wall, it feels less like a home and more like a museum. "Mom at least tried, Caraway. But then again, I'm sure you already knew that."

He pauses, pain dancing across his features, his heart exposed for one brief moment; Rinoa was sure that if she blinked she would have missed it. "There's absolutely no evidence that's true, Rinoa. People will make anything up to save their own skin-"

"Oh, well...perhaps if it was your own skin on the line, Mom wouldn't have died. Oh wait. _It was_." She's sure she has more to say, but suddenly she's seeing stars and she realizes that she's been slapped. Hard. She raises a white hand to her reddened cheek, shaking. Everything is blurry and hot. She tries to convince herself the tears are just from anger.

"I hate you!" she spits venomously. "I've always hated you!" It's a lie but she still runs out the door, slamming it behind her. She won't come back. There is nothing left for her here anymore.

He stares at the door in shock. Sinking to his knees and pulling his hands through his hair, he realizes that this time he may have lost her for good.

"Julia," he moans, "what have I done?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Hello there. This chapter is a bit long, sorry about that! Thank you to Dead Pollen for the review, I really appreciate it! **

**I also feel the need to state now that this will NOT be a Rinoa=Ultimecia themed story. I just had to let you guys know now as I'm aware that certain parts of it may make it seem like that's what this story is approaching – but it is not. Also, I feel the need to say that this will have canon pairings. I promise you I will try to make it worth the wait. Enough of me – enjoy, and thank you for reading.**

* * *

><p>They are together, in the fields of Balamb. Its night time and the sky is nothing but a velvet blanket scattered with diamonds. The pearl moon hangs lazily overhead, bathing both of them with a soft glow. Her skin is cream porcelain and her hair is ink, spilling over her shoulders. The contrast only makes her seem more alive, or perhaps dead, depending on whether or not it's a nightmare. Sometimes the dream switches so fast, he can't even take note.<p>

She smiles at him, and his breath is taken away for a moment; he is so tranquil, so peaceful that he can hardly believe the moment is real, that he's alive. She takes his hand, and rests her heavy head against his shoulder. "It's almost time."

"Time for what?" he murmurs back sleepily; something about the orb in the sky makes him feel weak, dizzy and drained. It's the only thing that he despises about this place, but the stars make it all worth it. And she likes it here. That fact alone renders him defenceless; he has no choice _but_ to be here.

"For you to die, Squall," she coos, but it's no longer her – it's a winged devil, and the voice is distorted, a black hole. He is weak, he can't fight it. Storm-blue eyes meet liquid gold helplessly, drawn in by gravity, a pull it was futile to resist.

Everything is suffocating blackness. The pressure on his lungs makes it impossible to breathe, and slowly, excruciatingly, he realizes he is being crushed. At that moment everything breaks and the sound of his splintering bones is left behind, drowned out by his agonizing scream.

He sits up in bed, drenched in sweat, shivering with a fear that's become a regular fever these nights. He is lost for a moment, and then he remembers: it was all a dream. Just a variation of the same dream that had been haunting him the past few weeks. The raven haired beauty was elusive and mysterious; Squall felt as if he _knew_ her, but he just couldn't place who she was. It was distressing to dream of her every night – sometimes to see her murdered by an angry mob as he watched helplessly, or to have her turn into a demon in front of his horrified eyes – yet be completely lost to who she really was. Every now and then, the dream would remain quiet, beautiful, for its entirety, but lately those had become few and far between.

He threw a weary glance at the neon numbers glowing in the dark of his room. Four a.m. Restlessly, he sank back into the pillows for another attempt at sleep.

* * *

><p>"Yo, Squall!"<p>

_Bang, bang, bang._

"Ugh..." bleakly rubbing his eyes, Squall squinted at the door of his dorm room menacingly. There was only one person who would feel the need to come to his room at seven A.M on a Saturday, and he wasn't particularly in the mood...

"_C'monnnnnn_ man! The hotdogs aren't going to save themselves!"

Yawning into his hand, Squall stumbled towards the door and opened it. Zell, his exuberant and hyperactive friend, stood there with a toothy grin.

"Zell, it's seven in the morning. Don't you think it's a bit...early for hotdogs?"

"It's never too early for hotdogs, man!" Zell practically growled. "Get changed so we can _goooooo_!"

"Alright, whatever," Squall muttered, annoyed. "Give me a few minutes." Then he slammed the door in Zell's face.

"Tch, so grumpy in the morning," Zell grumbled, feeling slightly dejected. How someone could honestly believe that there was such a thing _as too early for hotdogs_ boggled his mind. "Hey..." he said to the closed door, suddenly. "Did you hear about Seifer?"

"No," came the muffled response. Zell could hear the finality in that one word, even through the closed door. Well, Squall could be as grumpy as he wanted to. He was still going to share this bit of information.

"Cid finally got him bailed out of D-District Prison. Sent Quistis to get him. She had to pose as his fiancé," Zell chortled.

Finally Squall opened the door, dressed now in his regular clothing and ready to go.

"They'll be back in a couple of days," Zell added. "So it should be interesting to see the punishment Seifer gets for screwing up this time."

"Who cares," Squall muttered as they headed towards the cafeteria.

Seifer and Squall had never exactly been close, and that was a nice way of putting it. It seemed that no matter what Squall was doing – training, reading, doing detention – Seifer had a way of showing up and doing his very best to make the experience about a thousand times worse for Squall.

He was competitive and cocky, charismatic and ambitious. It was a startling contrast to Squall's quiet energy, his shy and withdrawn personality. Both were excellent fighters – trained at Garden since a young age. Each of them worked to master the gunblade, an articulate sword paired with the ability to shoot bullets.

"Wonder where Selphie is," Zell mused as they made their way into the cafeteria.

"Probably still asleep," Squall replied, glaring at Zell.

"O-Oh yeah, it is pretty early!" Zell laughed, scratching the back of his head self-consciously. "It's okay, man," he promised, "you'll thank me for this the moment you taste one of those delicious hotdogs."

* * *

><p>"...<em>In other news, the attacks on residents of Timber are escalating. Owl News has received reports of a house bombing that occurred earlier this morning. A middle aged man and his younger daughter were rushed to hospital with life-threatening injuries. The daughter remains in stable condition in the ICU. President Deling assures the public that the Galbadian military is investigating these attacks, and urges anyone with information to call the special hotline at<em>-"

Quistis Trepe let out a sigh as she turned down the radio, shaking her head. So President Deling had finally acknowledged the carnage that was engulfing Timber. The attacks had been happening for weeks now, although originally the media had attempted to keep things under the radar. Lately everything in Galbadia was thrown into chaos; Deling had been behaving more and more erratically, passing ridiculous laws and executing anyone he believed was a threat to his leadership. There were rumours that Deling had partnered with the Sorceress, although once he had caught wind of these rumours he forbad people from discussing it. Being found guilty of spreading rumours of Deling fraternizing with the Sorceress was now punishable by jail time.

Quistis found herself glancing out the window for some sign of Seifer. She was extremely frustrated at the fact that war could potentially break out any moment, and she was stuck here looking after Seifer.

Finally he appeared in her line of vision, exiting the store carrying a large bag of groceries. He smiled and waved at her, and she grinned back, waving.

"Hello my dearest," he says, getting in the passenger seat and giving her a peck on the lips.

"Hello, darling," she replies, smiling sweetly at him. "Did you find everything?"

"Yeah, we're ready to go," he says, pulling on his seat belt.

"Alright." Turning back on the engine, Quistis slowly guides them out of the parking lot and back to the Deling hotel. It's late afternoon and the sweltering heat slowly begins to subside, much to Quistis' relief. Seifer glances at her every now and then, and she gives him an angelic smile. Sometimes he blows a kiss and she giggles. To the residents of Deling who noticed them, they looked like any happily engaged couple – deeply in love.

Once they were safely inside their suite, however, things change. Quistis turns to Seifer with a severe expression on her face. "Things are getting worse. You really picked a hell of a time to get thrown in jail, Seifer."

"I was helping a friend," Seifer scowls, violently flinging his coat onto the coach. The hotel, decorated in shades of red and velvet, was a welcome change from the confines of his grey and bleak cell at D-District Prison.

"Well, your helping a friend came at the cost of involving Garden in this mess! Hyne, Seifer...do you even know what's going on?" She's frustrated, exasperated.

"I understand, Instructor. Maybe even better than you do," he sneers. His voice is dry, sarcastic. He moves like a caged animal; still unsure of where to go, agitated and restless. His emerald eyes glitter dangerously, and suddenly Quistis is aware he already has a plan and is determined to carry it out.

"What are you planning, Seifer?" she asks then, and her voice is cautious.

He smirks at her – mischievous again, playful. "Don't worry about it, dearest. If everything goes as planned, this war will be over before it's even begun," he promises.

* * *

><p>The heat and smog in Deling are unbearable, even as the day winds down and the sun begins to set. She misses her comfortable, air-conditioned bedroom already – but she can't go back there.<p>

So instead she turns the corner and heads towards Deling Hotel. She needs a quiet place to sit, have a drink, and figure out what to do next. She hadn't been able to contact Seifer all morning, and when she finally got through to the Prison they informed her that he was no longer being held. He was released on bail, in the custody of his _fiancé_. Rinoa had hoped that he could try contacting her by calling her on her cell, but she didn't hear anything yet. Seifer and his "fiancé" probably had to keep up the facade in case they were being followed.

But as if on cue, her phone rings. Whipping it out from her purse, she recognizes the name that flashes across the screen and her heart thumps. "Seifer?"

"Hey, mom," comes the casual reply.

Rinoa chuckles. "I'm so glad you're alright," she breathes, relieved. "What's going on?"

"Quistis came and picked me up. I've been released on bail. We'll be heading back to Balamb tomorrow morning."

"Oh," she murmurs, hit by a sudden wave of disappointment. Of course he's going back. "So...I won't be seeing you soon?" She tries to keep the sudden despair from her voice.

"We're taking a train there. For the meantime, we're staying at the Deling Hotel. Now, before you even ask, I'm fine, Mom!"

"You're...you're in Deling?" She squeaks, elated.

She hears him try to suppress a laugh; her childlike enthusiasm always seemed to amuse him. "Yes, yes. I am a little embarrassed though. We had to use Quistis' name when we registered, since all my credit cards were confiscated." He sighed. "Well Mom, I'm going to go get a drink at the bar. Don't worry, I'll call you when we've arrived in Balamb tomorrow evening. Talk to you then."

"See you soon!" She exclaims before hanging up.

She hurries down the street towards the hotel, the heat all but forgotten completely. Seifer was here. She was seeing him _now_.

Before she knows it, she's standing in the cool lobby of the hotel. Goosebumps run down her exposed legs; the rush of cold is a sudden shock to her senses. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a tall figure. Then she recognizes the broad shoulders, the golden hair. Before she even knows what she's doing, she's run towards him, her arms encircling his neck tightly, her face buried in his chest. He smells warm and sweet, clean like vanilla soap and faint cologne. He is surprised but pleased by her response, and he silently, tightly hugs her back. They stand like that for a few moments before he kisses her forehead and slings his arm around her shoulders. "Let's go," he says to her gently, his stance protective, although they're safe here. But she likes knowing that she's safe with him, and so they stroll silently, subtly, downstairs towards the bar.

* * *

><p>Any outsider looking at Quistis would automatically assume that she was some sort of model, or perhaps an aspiring actress. Certainly not a member of SeeD, the elite mercenary forces of Garden. What they didn't know was just how intelligent she was behind her cerulean eyes, or just how dangerous her delicate hands really were. Now she leans against the wall of the hotel, enjoying the sound of traffic across the Deling streets, taking a moment just to breathe. It was so different from Garden, here in the city. Flashing signs with golden lights enticed visitors to come inside and spend their money at venues lining the streets. A hot dog vendor was cooking up some wieners for a couple of customers, the smell deliciously warm and comforting.<p>

It was hard to believe that at any moment, this jovial atmosphere could be shattered – tainted with the taste of blood and war. It was a shadow looming over the horizon, a city threatened to be swallowed whole by a power-hungry fiend.

The Sorceress.

Quistis shivered. Suddenly, the beautiful city didn't seem as welcoming as it had moments ago. What she would give to be happily oblivious, like the civilians laughing and talking as they strolled by her. Lighting up a cigarette, she decided she would call Cid and get it over with. It wasn't a conversation she particularly wanted to have, but she had no choice in the matter.

* * *

><p>Squall gave a sigh of relief as the Grat fell, leaving the ground and his gunblade stained with disgusting green juice. Having a couple of hours by himself in the training center always relaxed him. His body was calculating, efficient; a practiced killer on auto-pilot. Concentrating on the attack and on defending himself distracted him from the dreams that troubled him every night. And he <em>needed<em> to be distracted. The dark-haired girl seemed to preoccupy his thoughts every waking moment. _It was amazing_, he thought, _how her face was so clear to him in his dreams, but upon waking it became blurred, skewed_. All he could recall was the heap of black hair, and that wasn't much help.

Suddenly, the familiar ding of the P.A system interrupted his thoughts. "This is the Headmaster. I request the presence of SeeD squad 287b in my office immediately. Thank you."

Squall sighed, wiping his gunblade on a patch of green grass. That was him Cid was looking for. _Another mission already? _He wondered as he left the training center. _I wonder where I'll be stationed this time_.

Arriving in Cid's office, Squall found the other two members of his squad, Zell and Selphie, already there.

"Ah, Squall, there you are," said Cid pleasantly. He was a kindly-looking man, short with a bit of a belly. He looked more like a teacher than the commander of hundreds of mercenaries.

Squall saluted formally, Zell and Selphie following suit.

"At ease," Cid says, turning to a folder of documents on his desk. "I called you here today to inform you of your next mission." He cleared his throat, and then turned back to his three students, a serious look on his face.

"As you know, the state of Galbadia has been thrown into distress lately. There are reports that Deling is losing his mind, or is under the control of the Sorceress. His actions have been erratic and senseless. Timber is suffering as a result, as nothing is really being done to stop the terrorist attacks that are now occurring more and more frequently. I received word today that the death toll has been put to 100 civilians and 40 soldiers of the Galbadian military. You three will be heading to Deling City to gather information concerning the state of affairs within the government. It was never my intention for Garden to get so involved in Galbadia's recent troubles, but anything regarding the Sorceress must be taken seriously by us." Straightening up, Cid handed the folder of papers to Squall. "In here contains your aliases – social insurance numbers, various forms of I.D, etcetera. While you will be under the guise of being civilians, it is imperative that you remain cautious and alert for any hostility you encounter. The Galbadians may be expecting us, and as a result you should be equipped with GFs at all times. I understand that for you, Squall, and you, Selphie, carrying your weapons may be impossible."

"When do we leave?" Selphie piped up.

"You will leave the day after tomorrow. Seifer and Quistis will be returning tomorrow evening, and they may have valuable information for us. I'd like to hear what they say before the three of you leave. Any questions?"

"Do you really believe the Sorceress is behind this, sir?" Zell asked. "She hasn't been seen or heard from for years."

Cid paused. "I cannot say for sure, Zell. But that is precisely what you're going to find out." Nodding at the three of them sombrely, Cid cleared his throat. "Dismissed."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello, everyone! Sorry for the long wait on this chapter. Life caught up with me and I didn't really have a chance to sit down and write for a bit! Hope this one is long enough, and there should be another update in about a week or so. Thanks for the kind reviews, and thank you for reading! I appreciate it :)**

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry."<p>

Silence.

Louder this time. "I'm SORRY, okay?"

The only response was the sound of Squall's heavy leather boots across the cold, hard ground, his silence seemingly more prominent and menacing. Further behind them, he could hear the girl laughing with Seifer, their voices low – but he could tell that they, somehow, were actually having a good time.

How in the hell that was possible in a place like this, he didn't know.

"Squall, man, look, I didn't mean to-"

At this, Squall turned and fixed Zell with a pointed glare. Zell promptly stopped talking and almost seemed to wither back as he let out a very audible sigh.

"Don't worry, Chicken-wuss," Seifer called from behind them. "Puberty boy will get over it eventually..._ow_!"

Squall took a single moment to glance back as Zell distracted his other team mates; apparently Rinoa, the girl in blue, had taken the opportunity to poke Seifer hard in the side. She grinned at Squall then, and he turned back around quickly. He could feel warmth in his cheeks. Something about the girl made him feel simultaneously happy and sad- relaxed and anxious, unsure, intoxicated. Something pulled at his mind, and shivers ran down his spine. He'd never met this girl before in his life but upon the meeting in Cid's office only a few short days ago, he felt a connection with her. It was there, fine like spider silk, light and invisible like candyfloss; but definitely there.

He didn't like it.

Now, here he was – stuck with Zell, who was being as hyperactive as ever, and forced to watch Seifer and Rinoa flirt constantly. His only saving grace was Quistis, although her strange perkiness was becoming off-putting. He had no idea why she was so excited about camping in one of Timber's sprawling forests (which was crawling with monsters and mosquitoes), but it looked like she was having the time of her life.

_This_, he thought to himself moodily as he dropped dry wood a meter from their campfire, _is why I enjoy being alone_.

"This isn't too bad, is it?" said Quistis cheerfully as she plopped down on one of their makeshift seats – a wooden log, brushed of dirt and spiders.

"Depends on your definition," Squall mumbled. He poked idly at the fire with a stick, tired from all the travelling.

Quistis was still for a moment, and when she spoke again she startled Squall out of his daydreaming state. "I have a feeling they're planning something," she said quietly, glancing quickly at Rinoa and Seifer who were deep in conversation, speaking in hushed voices. Squall followed her gaze. Rinoa and Seifer had spent most of their journey farther back from himself, Quistis and Zell; often, their conversation would suddenly halt when someone came within earshot of them.

"Like what?" he asked her, equally as quietly. She opened her mouth to respond when Zell descended upon them, brandishing a package of thawed hotdogs.

"Are you guys flirting again?" he asked loudly, drawing the attention of Seifer and Rinoa who looked at the pair with renewed interest.

Squall and Quistis looked at each other for a second before turning fire-engine red, then very pointedly looking away.

"Oh shit! I didn't mean to interrupt your-"

"Shut up, Zell," Squall and Quistis said in unison, before each getting up and heading to their respective tents.

"Good job for killing their mood, Chicken-wuss!" Seifer called sarcastically, before dragging Rinoa into his tent.

Zell stood there in the dark, scratching his head and holding onto his package of hotdogs. "What the hell just happened?"

* * *

><p>"Keep your eye on the target, Selph."<p>

Her green eyes narrowed dangerously, focusing on her target. She gripped her weapon in between her pale fingers, raising her hand, angling her wrist, ready to strike. She licked her lips in anticipation, taking a deep breath in. And on the exhale she released, her hand slicing through the air, and...

"BULLSEYE! Holy Hyne, you sure know how to play darts lil' lady!" the bartender chuckled as Selphie straightened up and turned to her partner, her eyes sparkling as she beamed with delight.

"That means another one's on you!" she sang cheerfully, sliding back down onto the glossy wooden barstool.

Irvine Kinneas grinned at her, adjusting his cowboy hat as he swivelled his stool to face her properly. "Well, a promise is a promise," he drawled in his thick Galbadian twang. "But I think it's going to have to be the last one, darlin'. That'll be your...oh, your fourth one." He frowned and wagged his eyebrows as he watched her down her beer like it was water and she had been in the desert for days. "Oh c'mon, Selph! You gotta be feelin that now!"

Selphie proudly set her empty bottle back on the counter with a satisfied bang. "Just cause I'm small, don't mean I don't know how to drink!" She smiled sweetly at him, flashing her perfectly straight, pearly smile. "One more, and then we head out?"

"Oh, fine," Irvine sighed with mock annoyance, but Selphie saw the smirk pulling at his lips as he turned away and called over to the bartender for two more.

Out of all the people she could have possibly met on this mission, Selphie was overwhelmingly grateful Irvine had been the one she'd partnered with.

It was a beautiful night, warm and balmy, and the Dollet bar they were currently in was full of people drinking, laughing, singing, and altogether just having a great time. Selphie had been stationed there to gather intell while her other teammates headed to Timber to do the same, and with her was an aspiring SeeD from Galbadia Garden. This was something like his field exam, she gathered, and how well they did determined if Irvine would find a place in SeeD or not. He was a cheerful guy, tall and broad with long, chestnut hair. He had a charming smile and blue-grey eyes that seemed to always be dancing. Selphie enjoyed being around him, and was impressed by his skill in battle. He wielded a combat rifle with the skill and precision of a master. She was determined to see that not only was their mission completed successfully, but that Irvine made it into SeeD.

Under the guise of tourists, Selphie and Irvine had checked into the Dollet hotel and spent their days sightseeing and preparing their plan of action. Over the past couple of weeks, it appeared that more and more Galbadian soldiers had been appearing in the small tourist town. Selphie had noticed that although the entrance to the Communication Tower, a huge dome from where one could broadcast messages to other countries, had been blocked, Dollet and Galbadian soldiers had routinely been going inside and making all sorts of ruckus. Selphie could only assume the noise had been from heavy machinery, and suspected that whatever she and Irvine were looking for would be found inside.

She just had to figure out how to get _in_ without causing trouble.

"You having a good time, sweetheart?"

Selphie turned back to Irvine as she snatched her beer giddily. "Oh, it's alright," she said airly, her cheeks flushed from too much alcohol consumption and the heady feeling in her heart. Irvine laughed, pulling his cowboy hat off his head and settling it on her; his fingers brushed against her forehead for the briefest moment and her heart thudded in her chest.

"Looks better on you," he said after a moment with a smile. Selphie raised her beer to her lips, turning slightly pinker in pleasure.

They drank in silence, enjoying each other's company, as a rowdy group of young men barrelled their way into the bar. They settled themselves at a booth within hearing range of Selphie and Irvine, and loudly droned on about their work that day.

But then, one of them said something that perked the young mercenaries interests.

"I'm so frustrated with repairing that damn communications equipment at the tower," a sandy-haired boy grumbled. He looked to be about sixteen or seventeen – couldn't have been much older – and Selphie wondered briefly how much experience he could even get working on electronics in a town as small as Dollet. They certainly weren't technologically advanced by any means.

"You'd better work harder, or they're going to fire you!" one of his co-workers chortled. "They're looking for people who have a bit of skill with repairing computers to go in and take a look...they're getting frustrated with you numbnuts who have no idea what they're doing, wastin' their time..."

"They are?" Selphie found herself calling over to the group. She stumbled off her stool, walking lopsidedly towards them until she found herself leaning on Irvine.

_Nice muscles_, she thought drunkenly. She could feel them through his long, soft coat. _Niceeeee_...

"Yeah," one of them said to her, a little warily. "And you're from...?"

"Oh, we're just visitin' on vacation," Irvine supplied. "But if we're here and we can help out, we'd love to. This little town here has given us a mighty fine couple of days."

"Just head on down to the clock tower tomorrow, then," the sandy-haired boy informed them. "That's where headquarters are."

"Will do," Irvine beamed cheerfully. "Well, thank you kindly, fellas. I best be getting this little lady to bed now, though." With that, he scooped Selphie up in his arms – ("Hey!") – before exiting the bar and heading towards their hotel.

"Irvy..."

"Yeah, Selph?"

"I think...I'm a little drunk," Selphie announced sleepily from his arms. She nestled into his chest more, enjoying the warmth and the smell of his cologne mixed with the sinewy texture of his coat.

Irvine grinned to himself as he glanced down at her flushed face, eyes closed innocently as her breathing became deeper. "Just a little, Selph."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: Oh, I didn't forget about this story! I apologize for the lack of updates. I don't have a very good excuse other than I feel like I have so much to write that it overwhelms me and I just end up not writing it. I've had the plot for this story entirely planned out - it's just the writing it that takes forever. I am going to try to update this on a weekly basis though, as I've now gotten a good chunk of this written out. I've also been working on a new story that I will post once Hollow is complete - although quite honestly, still got a ways to go. If you've stuck with the story for this long, thank you very much. It really means a lot. I hope this chapter satisfies you! Review and let me know what you liked/didn't like/etc! Until next time :)

* * *

><p>The smell of rot and decay floated across the room, the unmistakable scent of necrotic tissue, dead organs, and bodily fluids mixed into one. Humans would have gagged at the odour, but his kind relished it; it was not unlike his true scent, the musk he had to hide while playing his role in this game.<p>

He shivered as he walked across the cool marble, the sound of his shoes against the floor echoing throughout the room. Tall, graceful pillars decorated the entranceway, while beautiful furniture of delicately crafted iron and pewter adorned the otherwise ghastly room. Beautiful, dark tapestries of spun silk in a dazzle of crimson, burnt orange, and soft greens hung dauntingly on the walls. The high ceiling's focal point was a chandelier made of clear cut crystal, looking breathtakingly deadly as it loomed over the corridor. Colours of silver, black, and pearl accentuated the hollowness of the room.

He cleared his throat as he reached her boudoir. The soldier stationed there touted his gun menancingly as he approached, but stepped back in alarm and respect as he realized who the unexpected guest was.

"I'll let Her Lady know that you've arrived, sir!" the soldier saluted, preparing to inform his superior.

"Is that really necesarry? ...Ah, well. Do what you like," the man muttered, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket, his calloused hands fumbling for a lighter.

The Galbadian soldier saluted again, before disappearing into the corridor of Her Lady's bedroom. He arrived moments later, cheeks flushed, eyes bright.

"H-Her Lady will see you now, Sir."

"Very well," the man breathed, striding through the door, leaving a waft of smoke in his wake.

The room had even dimmer lighting than the rest of the house. The only light was that of the strobe lights adorning Her Lady's vanity table, at which she was sitting. She was dressed in naught but a thin white robe of silk and lace, her long legs demurely folded beneath the gilded gold of the vanity table. She looked at him with yellow eyes through the cold reflection of the mirror, a powder puff set daintily in her white hand. Her hair, for once, lay bone straight down her back, black as night. She was terrifyingly beautiful and, for all of her fragile elegance, the man knew she was the most deadly creature on Earth.

"I caught the stench of my predesesor on the way in," he chuckled, sitting down on her grandoise bed without invitation.

Slowly she turned around in her seat, momentarily abandoning the need to finish applying her make up.

"You should think about keeping your voice down," she said icily, her yellow eyes seeming to pierce through him like bullets.

"Oh, c'mon," the man laughed again. "_That_ kid?" he threw his thumb towards the closed door, behind which their soldier friend was surely keeping guard. "Doesn't know his ass from his elbow." He took another drag off his cigarette.

"Charming," the cat-eyed woman said dryly, clearly unimpressed. She didn't wait for a response. "I assume that I have nothing to worry about in Timber?"

"Oh, you know. Same as ever. Had a couple of kids poking around at the news station a couple of days ago, but what else is new? I'm keeping a close eye on things out there, though I admit, it does get a bit boring." He sighed dramatically, throwing his arms in the air. "Things are going well in Dollet. Tower should be up and running within 48 hours, tops."

The woman raised an arched eyebrow. "I'm impressed. Things have certainly gone more smoothly than I anticipated."

"I'm hurt," he said mockingly, putting his hand over his heart. "You underestimate me, Edea."

She stood then, her slim hourglass figure lost in the looseness of her garment. "We musn't get ahead of ourselves. There is much to be done as of yet." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I still cannot find him."

He rolled his eyes, standing and crossing over to her nightstand. He put out the remainder of his cigarette in her crystal ashtray. "You can't be serious."

Her eyes opened, her face tense. "I'm very serious. It is of the utmost importance I find him. You have no idea of the power a sorceress has with a knight at her side."

"So? Why don't you choose one of these bozos, who are very clearly enarmoured with you? I'm sure you noticed kiddo out there making eyes at you."

She glared at him. "You forget yourself, infidel. I don't expect a maggot like you to understand. But you _will_ remember your place here. I put you here, and I can remove you just as easily." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it dripped with malevolence and was shadowed with threat.

For the first time since their meeting, he felt an icicle of fear travel through his body. "Yes, Edea. ...I apologize." He dusted his hands off his navy dresspants. "I...suppose I should get back," he said uneasily. "Until next time."

She watched his retreating back as he exited. "Yes," she murmered. "Next time, indeed."

* * *

><p>Rinoa puffed out her cheeks and then slowly expeled the air through pursed lips. They rose in a white cloud in the cold air.<p>

"Rin, come on."

She rolled over on her stomach, glaring at the golden-haired youth before her, who was looking at her with a pleading expression.

"I already told you everything I remember, Seifer," she said wearily, her face propped up on her hands as she stared back into the emerald eyes, which were gazing at her with anticipation.

"There's got to be something more to it-"

"Well if there is, I don't know!" she finally boiled over, her voice high pitched and shrill. She rolled onto her back before sitting up and defiantly turning her back on him.

She heard him sigh, and jumped when his arms closed in behind her.

"I'm sorry," he muttered in her ear, her heart leaping. "I know talking about this must not be easy for you..."

She didn't respond, but her pale hand rose slowly to her neck, grasping a thin-linked silver chain round her neck. She closed her hand into a fist over her most treasured memento - the delicate, silver wedding band that had once belonged to her mother.

Her mother had been her favourite person, and now all that was left of her was ashes and the ring Rinoa carried with her around her neck.

"There was nothing left," she told Seifer again, looking at him now, her anger forgotten in the revived memories of her grief. "The car was burnt to a crisp, literally." She took a deep, shaky breath; talking about her mother's death left a bitter taste in her mouth.

His golden brows furrowed. "But...what about the ring?"

Rinoa shook her head, looking down at the floor, her arms tightening around herself instinctively. "She had left it behind that night. I don't know why..." she looked up. The night was frigid but perfectly clear, and she could see each diamond star perfectly. "Her and my father, they fought a lot towards the...end. I was just a little girl - I didn't understand most of it. But sometimes I came up. My father wanted me to go to boarding school, and my mother was desperately against it."

Seifer was quiet for a moment. "...Well, how did you feel about it?" he asked gently after a moment. He could see it in her face; she had a faraway expression on her face, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

She shrugged. "I was five. I didn't particularily want to leave, but...I don't know." She was quiet for a moment. "I don't know," she muttered again.

"...But you're sure your mother had something to do with the resistance?" Seifer asked doubtfully, trying to get her back on track.

"One hundred percent!"

"But we didn't find anything at Timber Maniacs."

"My father would have made sure any news relating my mother's death to politics would have never been reported," Rinoa insisted. Her nose had begun to turn red from the cold. "It would stain his image as the most fearsome General in Galbadian history." She scoffed angrily, standing and brushing away her tears. Whenever she spoke of her mother, it made her sad; speaking about Caraway just made her angry.

Seifer followed her lead and stood, stretching. His legs were stiff from sitting for so long and he desperately wanted to sleep in an actual bed that night. "Well, Rinoa...I need to know. Are you in?"

She turned around, staring at him determinedly. "I'm in, Seifer. If we can stop this before more people get killed...then we have to."

He grinned down at her charmingly. "That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

"But..." she trailed off, locking her hands behind her back and staring at the ground.

"What?" he asked slowly, watching her make patterns in the dirt with the toe of her boot. It was a habit of hers, one she usually employed when nervous.

"Um..." she bit her lip as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well...what about Squall?"

Seifer's hackles immediately rose. "What _about_ Squall?"

"It's just, well, I'd feel terrible if we just abandoned him! And Zell and Quistis, of course. Cid did send us all here together..."

"Listen, Rinoa," Seifer said, feeling a flare of frustration. "Leaving them behind is the only choice we have. First of all, they'd never support our plan, and this will have all been for nothing. Secondly, do you really think they would go through with this, even if they did think it was a good idea? Quistis wouldn't allow it without approval from the Headmaster, Zell is a fuckin' pansy, and Squall-"

"I know!" Rinoa interrupted. "I know you don't think they can do it, but...they would just be our support. If we need them to be."

"We don't need them to be, Rinoa. I know what we're doing," Seifer responded, a bit testily. They stared at each other.

"Well," Rinoa said finally, "you are the leader for our mission...so I guess if you say no, it's a no."

"I say no."

"Fine," she responded, turning around. He grabbed her arm.

"We're leaving tonight."

"But how are we-"

"Leave it to me." He turned around strode back to camp.

Rinoa watched him go, pulling up her arm warmers as she did. A chill ran down her spine, and she knew it wasn't just from the unusually frosty weather blanketing the area.

Seifer had been growing more and more obsessed with their plan as the days went by.

She had been excited, at first; for once, she was going to be able to put one of her plans into action, and carry out a real mission. It was something she had wanted to do for over a year, since she joined the Forest Owls, a resistance faction originating in Timber. Their goal was the independence of the county, to return it to the people and out of Vinzer Deling's greedy hands. He was a narcissistic sociopath, ruler of both Deling City (which he had named after himself), and Timber, though the latter was one he took in bloody force. He slaughtered countless civilians in his bid to take Timber and it's natural resources and, sadly, he had won.

Timber had become Rinoa's safe haven during the countless times she ran away from home. She hated to admit it even to herself, but her first lure to joining a resistance faction was knowing it would piss off her father, a leading Galbadian general, beyond words. But once she learned of the bloodshed behind it all, of the grief and regrets and utterly pure injustice behind Deling's rule, she was fueled by the need to truly make a difference. The people of Timber, despite all that had been done to them, were incredibly generous and warm people. Rinoa had made countless friends there over the years, and when the inital whispers of the Forest Owl's had reached her ears, she just knew it was something she had to be a part of.

At the time, the Forest Owls had wanted someone of blue or noble blood to lead their cause; Rinoa had lied of her lineage to grant herself an audience with the Owl's representitive, Watts. Of course, by the time the truth behind her parentage came out - General Fury Caraway for a father, and Julia Heartilly as her mother - it was too late; Rinoa had already proven herself to be a worthy member of the team. She was skilled at tactical decision making (at least, she was the most skilled person they'd gotten so far, thanks in part to her father); she was charming and warm, and enthusiastic about their cause, which made receiving financial support much easier. It was her that had proposed the idea of hiring SeeD to help carry out their missions, since many of the faction hadn't had combat training.

When the Sorceress had made herself known, and the bloodshed on Timber began yet again, the Owls knew it was time to finally take action, which was what led to this point. Rinoa, Seifer, Watts, and Zone were to assassinate Vinzer Deling.

Things, unfortunately, had fallen apart unpredictably. Zone and Watts were trapped under martial law in Timber, and Rinoa had no way to contact either of them; the success of the mission fell squarely on her's and Seifer's shoulders as a result.

Of course, they hadn't factored in Seifer getting arrested, and the two of them unwittingly being dragged into SeeD business.

Rinoa watched as Seifer approached the campsite, illuminated by the glow of the fire. Her hand rose to clasp the dainty ring perched on her necklace as uncertainty plagued her thoughts.

It was dangerous, and now there were factors she hadn't been able to account for previously; her team was down to two, and the timing was off. By some odd stroke of luck, Vinzer was in Deling, reportedly with the Sorceress, but for how long was uncertain; she knew they may never get another chance like this again. Although it made the mission that much more dangerous for the two of them, if they could kill two birds with one stone...

They had to move, and now.

She watched as Seifer said something that incensed Zell, as always; Quistis was holding back the martial arts master, who was shaking with rage. Squall was sitting by the fire, looking bored and a little irritated.

Rinoa stiffled a giggle as she regarded the dark-haired SeeD. She studied him from a distance; even his mannerisms were aloof and cold. Yet...

She played with her necklace idly. _I still want to know him._ It was silly of her, that she knew, but there was something about Squall that made her curious. He was always so detatched, careful and distant in his actions to stay away from the rest of the group. He was an excellent fighter, strong and swift and brave, but Rinoa could almost sense the uneasiness coming off of him when he was in a group, away from the battleground.

Slowly, she made her way back to camp, the grass below her boots slightly crispy with frost.

Seifer met her stare as she approached; ever so slightly, he nodded his head.

"Well," he began as he stood. Zell pretending to ignore him, poking at the fire with a stick and muttering to himself in low tones. "This has been a truly pleasant journey," Seifer drawled.

"Like hell it has," Zell breathed.

"Dear Zell, you know it's all in good fun!" Seifer brushed his gloves off against his jacket, looking at Squall, Quistis, and Zell in turn. "Unfortunately though, it's time for it to come to an end."

"What exactly are you talking about?" Quistis asked coldly, meeting his eyes.

"Goodnight," was all Seifer said. Flurries of stars flew from his hands in all directions; the Sleep spell hit Zell squarely in the face, causing him to fall forward; Rinoa reached in just in time and managed to pull him to his side, preventing him from falling in the fire. The spell aimed at Quistis hit her squarely in the back, and she fell gently to the ground with a soft plop. Squall, however, jumped up quickly and dodged his all together.

"The hell, Seifer!"

"Should have known you'd be the one to give me trou- _hey_!"

Squall had grabbed his gunblade from its propped position on the log and ran at Seifer.

"Squall!" Rinoa screamed, fear threading through her veins; Squall honestly believed Seifer was attacking him - well, she supposed Seifer really WAS attacking them - and was prepared to hurt Seifer in turn. Squall stopped and glanced at Rinoa for only the briefest second, but that was all it took. Her eyes pleaded with him. "I'm sorry."

He wasn't fast enough that time; the sleep spell wove it's way towards him, causing him to slump to the ground, his gunblade loosely gripped in his hand.

"Good job, Rin," Seifer said, nodding with approval at her. She took a deep breath; she didn't feel like she had done a good job at all. On the contrary, she felt terrible. _Please don't hate me too much, Squall_.

"Let's move them inside their tents," Seifer said, picking Quistis up gently and carrying her inside her tent; with Rinoa's help, they dragged Squall and Zell inside as well and then zipped the opening shut.

"I hope they'll be alright," Rinoa muttered, feeling guilty.

"They're SeeD," Seifer responded; Rinoa caught a hint of resentment in his tone. "They'll be fine." He sheathed his gunblade and concealed it with his coat. "Take only what you need. We have a lot of walking to do."

Rinoa attached her pinwheel securely to her arm as she began to follow Seifer towards their eventual destination. She glanced back once, praying that the SeeDs would one day understand...and forgive her.

* * *

><p>"I'm never going to forgive that fucking asshole for this!" Zell howled in fury as he kicked over the charred remains of the previous night's fire.<p>

"Save your frustration and help us pack, Zell," Quistis snapped, annoyed.

Squall didn't say anything, but he didn't blame Zell for taking out his rage on inanimate objects. "You were right," he shook his head, frustrated. "They were planning something, Quistis."

"Now its too late," she said bitterly as she shoved the remainder of their food into the soft leather satchel. "They have hours on us, we have no idea where they're going, we can't even just abandon our mission to go look for them without Cid's permission!"

"Wait, you guys knew about this?" Zell asked in disbelief, looking back from Squall to Quistis.

"We didn't know about_ this_, Zell," Quistis replied waspishly. "If we had, don't you think we would have been a little more prepared for that surprise attack last night?"

"Oh, right," Zell scratched his head, turning red and looking embarassed. "I just can't believe that idiot! And Rinoa too!"

Squall suddenly remembered her face, the expression of regret and uncertainty etched plainly across her features; "I'm sorry," she had said. He felt a wave of fury when he thought about it.

"We need to report back to Cid before we do anything else," Squall told his teammates, scanning the horizon; thick brush and tall trees loomed around them, monsters surely lurking in camouflage behind the foliage.

Quistis was still for a moment. "Regardless of what Cid wants, we probably won't have a choice." She took a deep breath. "I think Seifer is planning on doing something incredibly reckless, and if we don't stop him, he could get himself killed."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I picked him up, after his arrest..." Quistis hesistated. "He said something to me. He implied that he had a plan for stopping the conflict before it worsened. I just..." she took a deep breath, and shook her head. "I don't know. I couldn't get anything more out of him, but I'm extremely concerned..."

"Well, did you say anything to Cid about this before we left?" Squall questioned. He sighed when she didn't answer.

"What's done is done, Quistis. But if Seifer does something to alert the Galbadian military to our presence, Garden will become embroiled in this conflict."

"Then we have to stop him," Zell said seriously, looking worried now. "The Galbadian military has the Sorceress on their side. This could get very ugly, very fast."

"Let's head to Galbadia Garden," Quistis told the two of them. She pointed north. "It's northeast from here. I don't dare go into Timber, even as representatives of Garden, not with this latest development. If the two of them have done something and Garden has been identified, it could get bad for us."

"Galbadia Garden is the safest place for us right now," Squall agreed. "Alright, let's head to G-Garden and contact Cid. Let's hurry."

"I have a bad, bad feeling about this one," Zell said softly.

_Me, too_. Squall thought with trepidation.

The trek was unbearably long and exhausting; the aftereffects of Seifer's Sleep spell had almost entirely worn off of Zell and Quistis, but Rinoa's had been incredibly, strangely potent. Squall's head was splitting and he felt a damp heaviness in his limbs. His arms felt leaden when he grasped Revolver, and his reaction time was noticeably slower.

"Let's take a rest," Quistis had suggested after a particularly rough battle against a T-Rex, who had ambushed them in the forest. Squall declined and they pressed on; time was precious, and Squall didn't want to set the group back any further. Hyne only knew what Seifer and Rinoa were up to...

When the unmistakable structure, deep crimson and black, loomed ahead of them, Squall felt relief break through his searing agony and worry. _Galbadia Garden_. So different from Balamb, undeniably larger and more menacing than it's blue counterpart. The sun set on their backs as they headed up the sand-coloured stone steps towards the entrance. Even then, during the early evening, Galbadia Garden was a hive of activity. Students cruising on T-Boards, laughing in groups, a couple of loners smoking a few feet from the entrance. One instructor was overseeing a group of male students doing push-ups.

"We have to sign in first," Quistis informed them as they finally entered the building. She led them towards the front desk. A petite woman wearing a grey suit stood there looking bored, a pair of black, old fashioned glasses perched upon her tiny nose.

"Quistis Trepe, SeeD no 726 from Balamb Garden reporting in. I'm here with the rest of my squad, Squall Leonhart and Zell Dincht," she motioned towards the boys. The secretary looked politely over at them before nodding.

"Alright, just looking you up...okay Miss Trepe, you're signed in. It looks like you've had a long travel...there are extra beds available in the dorms if you need to rest here overnight."

"That would be perfect," Quistis said gratefully. "I'm afraid I must see the Headmaster right away though."

The secretary looked at Quistis expectantly.

"It's urgent," Quistis said, almost apologetically.

"I'll let Headmaster Martine know," the secretary assured her. "Why don't you wait in the dorms until then, and I'll have the Headmaster's office call you when they're ready for you?" She handed Quistis a couple of keycards. "You're in room 442. It's written on the keycard in case you forget."

"Alright. Squall, Zell, follow me," Quistis said, turning and gesturing them to follow her lead.

"It seems like you know this place pretty well, Quistis," Zell said, looking around in curiosity.

"I've been here a few times," Quistis said vaguely, not seemingly wishing to speak about it.

"It sure is a lot different from Balamb Garden," Zell muttered.

"I like it," Squall offered.

Zell gave him a withering look. "That's a shock. It's so quiet here you could probably hear a pin drop."

"Well now that you're on the premises, I doubt that," Squall replied as he glanced around. Zell opened his mouth to retort but Quistis shushed him so violently he promptly closed it again.

"Ah, this is us!" Quistis exclaimed brightly as they finally came to a door marked 442. She inserted the keycard into the electronic lock. It dinged successfully and Quistis pushed the door open.

"Nice," Zell said enthusiastically as they entered. For as drab and grey as the decor was out in the halls, the room was beautifully spacious and elegant. Three double beds with crisp, fresh sheets were seperated by cherry-oak night tables; a single flatscreen television hung on the wall. A wall-to-wall desk sat beneath the window, equipped with a laptop and a phone. An ensuite revealed a bathroom complete with separate tub, decorated in shades of pearl and gold.

"Geez, pays to be a Galbadia student eh?" Zell quipped in awe. "How come our dorms aren't like this?! Even the SeeD dorms at Balamb aren't this nice."

"Oh, they are - depending on your rank," Quistis smiled evilly. She yawned. "I'm going to take a shower quickly...listen for that phone call, would you?" She disappeared into the bathroom.

"That's code for 'don't both of you take a nap,'" Zell snorted. "Hey, Squall, check this out...let's order something on pay-per-view, Galbadia would be charged, not us-"

"Knock yourself out," Squall breathed, collapsing onto the bed. It was _so soft_. He was almost asleep when Zell spoke again.

"I wonder what they're doing."

Squall didn't have to ask who he was talking about. "Knowing Seifer, something stupid," Squall responded.

"Yeah, but Rinoa is involved." Zell quieted down again. "I'm not surprised Seifer pulled that act on us last night, but I would have never expected that from Rinoa."

"She's working on this scheme with Seifer, Zell..."

"I know, I know," Zell said quickly. "But well...I don't know. I liked her, ya know?"

"I know," Squall muttered, rolling over to his side. He didn't want to think about that. He closed his eyes.

"I just mean, well, she hasn't exactly had the type of training we have either, has she? I mean, sure, she was part of that resistance faction, but-"

"Just what are you getting at, Zell?" Squall interrupted him.

"Just that Seifer doesn't have trained back up with him. And that she might not be able to protect herself or him if it comes down to it. That's all."

"There's nothing we can do about it right now, Zell," Squall told him evenly. "Both of them knew that before they decided to do this. Seifer is probably prepared for the worst possible outcome."

"Yeah, but is Rinoa?"

Squall didn't answer.


	5. Chapter 5

"This a disaster," Cid moaned. Even from the grainy image of the feed, Squall could see the beads of sweat on his brow as the older man removed his glasses and rubbed the wire-rimmed lens weakly on his crimson cotton vest, the fabric pilled and wearing. It was a nervous habit of the Headmaster's, an action used to distract himself from the situation at hand.

The stress of running Balamb Garden was beginning to show on the Headmaster's appearance. Gray hair had set in at his temples and his forehead was creased with frown and worry lines. There were bags under his eyes, and it appeared he didn't have the energy to wear his usual comforting smile. In fact, his face was unusually drawn and sombre, a startling change from the usual jolly twinkle in his eyes. Cid often behaved more like a kindly grandfather to his students than a hardpressed military commander, a trait one might naturally suspect in the headmaster of a elite military academy.

"It most certainly is," Martine drawled lazily. For the situation at hand, G-Garden's headmaster seemed supremely unconcerned. The Headmaster of Galbadia Garden hadn't even bothered to get properly dressed for an audience with the three SeeDs and Balamb's Headmaster; he was dressed in a deep indigo robe bordered delicately with gold silk. Matching slippers adorned his feet, and a cigar dangled lazily from his hand as he regarded the three SeeDs placed in front of him. Squall eyed him critically. It was hard to take the golden-haired authority figure seriously, despite all the power he tended to gloat. "Well, Cid, it seems we have a problem here...more than one. I believe it's time to take action."

"Now just wait," Cid began, a suspicious glint in his hazel eyes, but Martine cut him off.

"I know, the Sorceress is your wife, Cid. However, thanks to one of your students, Garden is sure to become a target, and much faster than what we had anticipated." There was an ill-concealed hint of delight in his dulcet tones. He pressed a buzzer on his desk before reclining back in his leather seat. Squall, Quistis, and Zell sat opposite in front of him in hard wooden seats, backs rigid and uncomfortable, nerves on edge. "To be honest, this was only a matter of time. And it's best we move now, and prevent the Sorceress for taking hold of this Garden."

"Why would she want to do that, sir?" Zell chimed in, looking confused.

"Because Galbadia Garden would serve as a perfect base of operations for her military. Not only would she have numerous assests at her disposal here, but the entire student body is nearly a fourth of the Galbadian military. Our students are well trained. Various combat and technician specialists, military doctors and nurses...it would be a huge gain for the Galbadian army," Martine informed them, regarding Zell for a moment. "I've heard of you before, Dincht. They say that your hand-to-hand skills are unmatched."

"Uh...thank you, Sir," Zell said modestly, looking taken aback but pleased.

"You know that Galbadia and Balamb Gardens have a transfer system-"

"Er, yes," Cid cut in hastily. "But let's get back to the business at hand, shall we? What is it exactly that you propose to do, Martine?"

Martine puffed smoke circles in the air before drawing a deep breath. He cleared his throat. "I believe our best chance to end this whole business is to take care of the Sorceress before she becomes a real issue..." He paused dramatically, looking at each of the SeeDs in turn. Leaning forward, he almost breathed his next words; they were spoken so softly. "I believe we must assassinate the sorceress."

Cid looked thunderstruck. "_What_?!"

"She's already manipulated Vinzer Deling into giving her Galbadia state. You know her next step will be conquering the other continents. She'll use whatever assets she can get her claws on, Galbadia Garden included. Don't fool yourself, Cid. Balamb and Trabia will be next."

Cid seemed unable to speak.

"With all due respect, Sir," Quistis chimed in timidly, "isn't that a little hasty? How would anyone go about assassinating the Sorceress, anyway? She has powers beyond our imagination."

"Not just anyone," Martine replied, facing her and looking into her eyes. "The three of you will accompany a sniper to Deling City and carry out this mission."

"Now wait just a minute," Cid stormed, fury etched on every line of his face. "I do not agree to this, Martine. These are my students, and I don't agree to this mission whatsoever-"

"You don't have to," Martine snapped back. "Under the Garden Code no. 673, I'm allowed to assign SeeDs of another Garden to emergency missions in the event of their residence at Galbadia."

His retort left Cid at a loss for words. He stared blankly at the three SeeDs and the cunning Galbadian Headmaster, his mouth slightly agape.

"We can handle it, Sir!" Zell said enthusiastically. He raised his fist in the air. "You've got some of the best SeeDs right here at your disposal, so why not?"

"You mentioned a sniper," Squall mused, brow furrowed slightly. He wasn't going to dispute official orders, regardless of his personal feelings on the matter. That being said, he didn't want to lead his comrades into danger either. "None of us here have that skill."

"A sniper from Galbadia Garden will join you. He should be here at any minute. He's undergoing a debriefing right now but as soon as he returns you will be able to go."

Squall clenched his fist. _This is getting more and more complicated. And Seifer..._

"What about Seifer and Rinoa?" he questioned.

"We'll let the boy carry out whatever plan he has. It will distract the Sorceress and the army from you. When they fail, you will succeed."

"Seifer will be disciplined upon return," Cid said through gritted teeth. He looked absolutely furious. "If you find him, detain him. He is not allowed under _any_ circumstances to participate in this mission or the one of his own undertaking. If you can find him before he does anything stupid, prevent him from whatever action he was going to take."

There was a sharp knock at the door. Martine stood, throwing the remains of his cigar in the ashtray. "Enter."

A broad-shouldered, tall and tanned young man walked into the room. He wore a long, brown, soft leather coat. His light brown hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and the rest was covered by a large cowboy-style hat. He smirked as he glanced down at the three SeeDs, but respectfully removed his hat when his twinkling blue eyes settled on Quistis.

"This is Irvine Kinneas, the best sniper we have," Martine introduced them. "Irvine, you already know the mission details. These three SeeDs are your support."

"But what about me?" demanded another voice. A head of dark brown hair and sparkling green eyes peeked out from behind the doorway.

"Selphie!" Quistis exclaimed as the yellow-clad girl bounced in the room. "But...what are you doing here?" Quistis asked, confused.

"Irvine and I were assigned on our last intel mission together," Selphie offered. "We just finished our debriefing."

"Yes, well," Martine interrupted, looking slightly annoyed. "You are to go to Deling City and meet with General Fury Caraway. He will be your inside support for this mission. He has offered his estate as a base of operations. Further details will be explained there. Now, if you don't mind, Cid and I have much to discuss." He pointed to the door.

Squall saluted the Headmaster before he left the room, his head throbbing. _How has a simple intelligence mission turned into this?_

Behind him, he could hear the girls chattering excitedly. He glanced back to take a brief look at their new team member. Irvine had slung his arm comfortably over Selphie's shoulder. Zell was sizing him up, looking unimpressed.

"We depart tomorrow morning at 0800 hours," Squall said to them as they made their way to the dorms. "You're free til then."

The others nodded in agreement, and Squall took his leave from their group. All he wanted was some sleep.

* * *

><p>"Seifer, are you sure this looks...okay?" Rinoa asked self consciously as she eyed herself in the floor length mirror. As part of their plan, she had dressed in the servant clothing she'd stolen from one of the locker rooms of <em>Deling Courtesy<em>. Unfortunately, the clothing she had hastily grabbed as a size too small, causing her bust to stick out more than it usually did. The skirt was a bit shorter than she would have liked. Overall, she felt like she looked like a tawdry teenage bimbo posing as a confident adult, playing into a role she wasn't quite ready for.

"You look fantastic," Seifer promised in response, his voice carrying from the bathroom. "Ahh...can you help me with this tie?"

Rinoa gave herself another critical glance in the mirror before sighing and walking towards the bathroom. She smiled slightly when she saw Seifer in his clothes; a simple dress shirt and pants, his muscles creating shadows in the soft linen material. He had shaven and gotten a hair cut to add to the look. When he looked up at her helplessly, his tie dangling around his neck, she couldn't help but giggle.

"You look nice," she said softly as she tried to help him adjust his tie. Half of her wished they were dressing up to go out on a date, and the other half of her was trembling in anticipation of what they were about to do. Fear and determination ran together through her veins.

"I hope this works," he breathed. He looked anxious. "Do you have the poison?"

"Yeah. I'll tuck it in a hidden pocket I sewed into the shirt. I'll take care of Deling first, and then we'll have to somehow put the Odine bangle on the Sorceress..."

She finished tying the tie and brushed off Seifer's shoulders before stepping back. She smiled up at him, pale skin flushed. "You clean up nice."

He grinned back at her, but the smile dissipated within moments. Concern washed over his features. "Look, Rin. I'll take care of the Sorceress. You take care of Deling. That was the plan. Make sure you stick to it."

She bit her lip, one hand travelling towards her beloved necklace. "What if you run into trouble?"

"I'll be fine. Garden trained me for espionage missions, remember? I'm more worried about you."

"Don't be," she tried to reassure him. "All I have to do is slip the poison into his cocktail, if need be I'll make a scene. During the commotion, I'll get out."

"Alright. Well, let's run through the plan again. Then we'll double check we have all our equipment, and get going..."

The night air was crisp and cool, the stars washed out by the blinking neon lights and lit-up venues of Deling's Entertainment District. The nightlife in Deling was always thriving, but tonight there was a different kind of electricity in the air; Rinoa could feel it wash over her skin as they made their way through the throng of sweaty, excited party-goers in the streets. The government had declared it "National Independence Day," a celebration of Deling's collaboration with the Sorceress under a guise of peace and unity, and the citizens of Deling gladly embraced another opportunity to let loose. But as Rinoa glanced at the vapid, blank faces around her, drunk off lies and liqour, she couldn't help but feel a chill run down her spine. _These people are completely oblivious_, she thought to herself as she struggled to stay close to Seifer. She was getting joustled from every direction.

"Split up," Seifer called to her, voice strained, frustration on his face. She didn't have time to respond before he disappeared into the crowd.

Pushing her way through the crowd, she fumbled through her leather purse for the fake identification card she had, a keycard that would allow her to access the maintenance building in the Presidential Embassies. The home of Vinzer Deling, and current base for the Sorceress. Her heart thrummed nervously in her chest as she tried to seperate herself from the pulsating crowd. She let out a sigh of relief as she turned into the alley leading towards the back entrance of the Embassies. The music slowly died out behind her as she approached the guarded door. Showing the bored-looking Galbadian guards her fake identifiation, she pulled out her keycard as they nodded their approval to her. She approached the door and inserted the card, a nervous sheen of sweat breaking out over her skin as she walked inside the heated building.

Outside there had been the electric excitement, nearly tangible as it hissed through the air; inside servers bustled anxiously, hands burning from piping hot trays of freshly baked hor d'oeuvres. Rinoa shrugged out of her jacket and left it in the locker rooms.

"Take these," a stern faced woman snapped at Rinoa as she approached the kitchens, shoving a tray of pristine champagne filled fluted glasses at her. Rinoa struggled to hold them steadily; she was trembling. Taking a deep breath, she approached the doorway leading into the ballroom.

Noise burst within her ears; classical music flooded the room around her, a three-string quartet accompanied by a pianist serenading the party. Rinoa blinked rapidly; the room was yellow and gold and white lights, the floor marble, walls garnished with exquisite art and statues. She made her way around the room, silently offering alcohol to individuals of the well-dressed crowd. Men looked dapper in their fitted suits of black, navy and grey; a few military men had donned their uniforms, and briefly Rinoa worried about running into Caraway. Women dressed in expensive, elegant ballroom gowns flirted and looked casually bored. As she walked, her eyes skimmed the room, searching for a sign of Seifer, the Sorceress, or her target - Deling.

The first one she saw was Seifer. He was speaking to a blonde-haired woman, diamonds at her throat, her hand flirtatiously touching Seifer's shoulder whenever she laughed (which appeared to be quite frequently). When Rinoa caught his eye, he smiled at her briefly before turning his attention back to the blonde.

Rinoa had to smile to herself; Seifer was Seifer, regardless of what situation he was placed in. Instead of jealousy, Rinoa felt an ebb of relief. Even in chaos, she could count on the consistency of Seifer. _Things will be just fine_. Almost instantly, her mind went back to looking for Deling. Finally, she spotted him - he was excusing himself from a group of attendees and making his way to a door marked _Private_. Taking a deep breath, Rinoa wove her way through the crowd, ignoring a few attempts made by party-goers to get her attention.

All too soon she found herself standing in front of the heavy wooden door. Her mouth felt dry, her palms damp. She knocked twice before the door opened in front of her.

_Deling is even uglier in person_, she mused to herself as the man regarded her, looking a little annoyed. He had a large potbelly and his hair was more grey than black. Age spots covered his face and exposed hands, his eyes hard and dark. She gave him her brightest smile, hoping her expression didn't betray her growing feeling of fear. _Be brave. You can do this._

"Ah, champagne Just what I was hoping for," he said, an eerie smile lighting up his face. "Come in." He moved to the side, allowing her to enter the room. The door made a very final clicking sound as it closed behind her.

Rinoa set the tray down on the desk, eyeing the papers that littered the surface; documents stamped with the official seal of the Galbadia government caught her eye. All she was able to make out was the word "experimentation" before Deling hastily gathered them up, putting them in a drawer of his desk compartment.

"Congratulations on the collaboration, Mr. President," Rinoa breathed nervously. She had to distract him in order to pour the poison into his drink, but all of his attention seemed to be focused on her.

"Thank you, Miss...?"

"Umm...Julia," Rinoa said off the top of her head. Her mother's name was the only one that came to her mind. "I'm Julia."

"It's certainly going to be a momentous reign, between the Sorceress and I," Deling went on, his voice delighted. "We'll unite many nations under our rule. You realize how amazing it is that I arranged this partnership? Never has a sorceress freely worked with another world leader such as I in a capacity like this-"

There was a knock at the door, and Deling broke off. He looked irritated as he strode towards the door, perhaps upset that someone interrupted his bragging. Rinoa quickly reached into the tucked in fold of her shirt, fumbling for the feel of the glass tube, hidden within the cloth. She ripped the seam with her fingernail, pulling out the tiny tube. As Deling opened the door, she unstoppered it and poured it into each of the flutes, her heart racing. She couldn't take the chance that he would drink out of the wrong glass; it was safer to poison each. _Though perhaps not for me,_ she mused as she straightened up, heart pounding.

"Sir, you're required for the speech in fifteen minutes. Her Lady is almost finished getting ready..."

"Yes, yes, I don't need your bloody status updates every five minutes. Call me when it's time, and no sooner than that. You understand?"

"Y-yes sir, I apologize, sir!"

"Get out of my sight," Deling hissed, slamming the door in the solider's face. "Now, where were we?" He breathed at Rinoa as he turned to face her, his eyes roaming her features hungrily.

"We were just discussing how amazing you are, sir," Rinoa said with a smile, her jitters starting to ease. The worst part was over with. He hadn't detected her poisoning his drink, and although she was terrified of watching the poison take effect, she felt that she was mostly out of danger.

He chuckled, though his eyes seemed as cold as ever. "I must put you on my regular service, Julia. As it is, I must cut our night here short...I have a speech to review, you know." He strode towards her, and she steeled herself. "But first...it would be a waste of champagne if we didn't indulge ourselves. So a little toast..." His aged hand picked up a flute of champagne, handing it to her.

"I mustn't, I could be fired, you know," Rinoa trailed off uncertainly, but he pushed it towards her.

"Go on, I won't tell," he said with a wink, but again, there was no humor in his eyes.

He picked up the other glass, and unwillingly Rinoa raised hers to his. They made a very final _clinking_ sound as they touched.

"To the future," Deling breathed, as he lifted the glass to his lips and drank thirstily. Rinoa raised her glass to her mouth, her lips firmly pressed together, and pretended to take a drink. He polished off his champagne, and set the empty flute on the serving tray. Rinoa put her untouched glass back on the tray and smiled at him nervously.

"Now off with you," Deling commanded, his attitude suddenly unfriendly and almost rude, as he walked to the other side of the oak desk and began to sort through some loose papers.

Rinoa wasted no time in obeying him, picking up the serving tray and hurriedly exciting the room. Her heart was thrumming uncontrollably fast in her chest, a mantra of _I did it I did it I did it_ chanting in her head. As she side-stepped the dancers and tried to make her way back to the serving room, a hand shot out to grab the last flute of champagne on her tray. Rinoa grabbed it back from the dark-haired patron, who glared at her, shocked at her daring. "I'm sorry, there's a hair in this glass," Rinoa said firmly to him, taking it and moving on quickly before he had a chance to protest. As she hurried back to the kitchens, her eyes darted throughout the elegant ballroom chamber, searching for Seifer. She couldn't see him.

Flinging open the door for the kitchen, Rinoa made her way to the sinks and threw out the champagne, setting the empty glasses on the counters. Now she had to get out, before she was undoubtedly given another task to complete. Ignoring the servers around her, Rinoa made her way back to the change rooms She was only a few feet away when a shrill scream cut through the air, startling the servers around her. One girl dropped a plate of cheese puffs They all paused for a moment, while some servers ran outside towards the ballroom. As the door opened, Rinoa heard a male voice cry out "Mr. President! The President needs help, get-"

Goosebumps covered Rinoa's skin; she had to get out of there, and now, for if she was identified as the last person to see Deling before he fell ill...

Snatching her purse and her coat, she glanced behind her shoulder as she raced to the exit door and opened it. Nobody was watching her, the place in a state of frenzy and panic. Suddenly she collided with something hard as the brisk night air surrounded her. She dropped her purse, her coat only halfway on, as she tumbled onto the cold concrete. Wincing, she looked up; apparently the hard object she'd run into was no other than a person, albeit a fairly frightening-looking one.

"Where are you going in such a panic, girly?" he leered. The security guards who had sullenly let her enter earlier were glaring down at her.

"We heard screams from inside," the other one said gruffly. "What's going on in there?"

"I - ... I'm not sure," Rinoa said uncertainly, working hard to keep her face calm. Inside though, she was screaming at herself: _think, think!_

It was at that moment another waiter burst through the door, panting. "Need help inside," he huffed breathlessly to the security staff, face flushed. "There's been an attempt on the President's life!" He didn't wait for a response, but turned around and ran back inside the building, calling for assistance.

"Can I go?" Rinoa pleaded as she stood shakily, edging away from them. The bigger guard roughly grabbed her arm and held on tightly.

"You ain't goin' nowhere, miss, not until we're sure you ain't got nothing to do with this!" He shoved her back inside, swiftly followed by the other guard, the door closing with a heavy bang.

* * *

><p>It was nearly 3 A.M when Squall shot up in his sleep, drenched in sweat and breathing hard. Another nightmare. This time, the girl's face was a little clearer - the shadows and blurs around her face seemed more defined. Squall gripped his hair in his hands, hard. The dream had started off peacefully, the girl laughing and dancing; in the dream, Squall had felt full of a quiet happiness. But he watched in horror as Seifer materialized out of nothingness, the girl backing away in fright. In the end, Squall wasn't even sure if it was his gunblade or Seifer's that had pierced her flesh...there had been a swift blur of steel against smooth, yielding flesh... The blood...<p>

He jumped out of bed as quickly and quietly as he could, desperate to get to the toilet before he threw up.

"Squall?" he heard Quistis ask sleepily, but he slammed the bathroom door and hurled himself over the toilet.

_These dreams are getting to be too much_, he thought wearily as he slumped against the tiled wall, wiping his mouth across the back of his hand.

Someone knocked anxiously at the door, and Squall sighed. He felt frustrated and tired and now slightly guilty for waking up Quistis; it had to have been her, because he could still hear Zell's lumbering snores.

Shakily he got to his feet, pausing to flush the toilet. He opened the door. "Quistis?"

"Squall, is everything alright?" she whispered, looking concerned. Her eyes were searching his face.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I must've eaten something funny, that's all." The lie was convincing enough.

Quistis nodded, looking a little relieved. "Should I go make you ginger tea or get you some water?" she whispered.

"No, no, go back to sleep, I'm fine," Squall responded.

She hesitated but nodded reluctantly. "Okay. Goodnight, Squall."

"Goodnight," he whispered, closing the door gently. He listened to her light footsteps padding back to her bed, then made his way to the sink. He splashed his face off with the coldest water he could stand. Turning the tap off, he glanced at himself in the mirror.

"It was just a dream," he told his white-faced reflection firmly. "Just a dream."

This time, the lie wasn't convincing at all.


End file.
